


A Look Into John and Paul’s Life

by poseidonsheart



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Dancing, Drunken Shenanigans, Early Mornings, Family Dinners, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Slice of Life, Smoking, Surprises, will add more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poseidonsheart/pseuds/poseidonsheart
Summary: A peek into John and Paul’s life in their little home. John’s a guitar teacher, Paul’s an english teacher and they make it work.





	1. At the End of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for being gone for a lil while, but i have this. no real plot or anything, just some fluffy domestic shit

“John~” Paul purred, “It's time to get up.” He rested his weight on his elbow as he stared at the sleeping beauty next to him. 

“Sod off, Paul.” John groaned and rolled over to put his back to Paul. Another morning in which Paul was up too early, and John just wanted to stay in bed forever. Knowing John, he probably would just stay in bed and let himself decay if he didn't have Paul to wake him up every morning. In a way, he was thankful for him doing that, but right now, all John knew was that it was still dark out and their bed was just too warm. 

Paul pressed kisses to his bare shoulder, making him shiver. “You wouldn’t want me to go running without you, would you?” 

“Yer daft if you think that. Go without me.” 

“John.” Paul’s tone got harsher. “Hmm…” He pondered on his offering. “We could just go for a walk…” He ran his hand over John's arm. “No one’s out and it's nice and cool. No run.” 

John finally picked up his head. Paul smirked to himself as he got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and met with John by the closet. Paul wore his jog pants and a hoodie, John wore joggers and a t-shirt. They left Martha asleep in her bed, mainly because they didn't have the heart (or the energy) to wake her up from her cozy slumber. 

The cool morning breeze of September happily greeted them as they slipped out of the house. They walked hand in hand, John slightly leaning onto Paul, trying to keep himself warm. ‘You should've worn a jacket’ Paul would say. John ignored him. He didn't like to admit it, but John loved mornings like these. Would he rather stay in bed until 11 am? Probably. But something about listening to Paul talk trash about the people in their neighborhood as they passed houses, tell John about what was on the agenda that day, and sometimes wrap his hand around Johns arm and rest his head on his shoulder as they walked just melted his heart. He loved when he did that. 

As soon as the two of them walked back into the house, Paul made his way into the kitchen with John following close behind him. Immediately, he covered the days date on the calendar on their fridge with his hand. 

John wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist and stared over his shoulder at the calendar. “What’re we doing today?” John asked, almost in a mumble. 

“I need a drumroll!” John drummed his hands lightly on Paul's stomach. “Today…We are doing…” Paul removed his hand. “Nothing!” He said, revealing the empty square. 

“Oh thank god.” John buried his head in the crook of Paul’s neck. Paul giggled and turned in his arms, dragging his hand slowly across his cheek and bringing his face up to look at him. “So pretty, y’know.” John whispered, draping his arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek. 

Paul slid a hand over his arse, pulling him closer. He gave him one last kiss before slipping out of his hold. John whined at the lost of contact before going to hang out with Martha. At least she wouldn't leave him. Well, probably not. Paul left the kitchen and grabbed his bag from the front door. Sitting himself at the kitchen table, he pulled out all the papers he needed to grade. He felt like he was going to lose his mind. 

“Better get started then.” John said from the couch. Only then did Paul realize he’d been staring at the papers with a solemn look on his face. He looked to John, who was cuddled up with Martha. She looked very happy to be in that situation. 

Paul sighed and grabbed his pen. It was the worst of the worst. Essay grading. So many elements to check, grammar, word count, spelling, use of vocab, and god, Paul just wanted to lay on the floor and cry while the papers graded themselves. He asked John to manage the music while he worked. Of course, John got up (much to Martha’s dismay) and grabbed Paul’s phone to connect it to their speaker. He put on Paul’s ‘grading playlist’ which was just a bunch of classical music that John didn't really enjoy but endured it for the time being. Both John and Martha watched for a little bit as he worked away. He was like a machine that John just couldn't take his eyes off of. 

At some point, he switched out of his clothes from that morning and changed into a pair of womens tennis shorts that originally John got him as a joke but Paul genuinely enjoyed wearing, and a big, faded, brown sweatshirt that almost hung below his shorts. Paul was getting into some of the last papers when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. Almost instantly, he went slack at the feeling. John buried his nose in Paul’s hair. “I need alcohol.” Paul said as he tipped his head back. 

“On it. I’ll be on the back porch.” John kissed his head and left Paul with a smile on his face. 

Paul quickly finished the last of the papers and sat for a few seconds, basking in the glory of finishing 6 class periods worth of essays. He sighed and walked into the bathroom, splashing some water in his face. Turning his face back up, he grabbed a towel and dried his face. 

“Are you done?” John asked from the doorway. Before he could answer, John strode forward and hooked his arm around Paul’s. “Great, well, I set up some stuff in the back. Close your eyes.” Paul smiled widely and went with John as he guided him through the house and to the back door. As soon as they stepped outside, Paul could smell a fire. “Open.” John said and excitedly did jazz hands. 

“John…” Paul looked around at their yard. The firepit (which has not been set up in years) was holding a blazing fire, there were bottles of Paul’s favorite beer sitting in the cupholders of their camping chairs, their old christmas lights were strung all around and setting a soft light all around the backyard. “Oh my god…” Paul said as he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his old, faded sweatshirt. 

“Oh god, you’re not crying, are you?” John stepped closer to him. 

Paul let out a sweet-as-honey laugh. “It’s just really nice that you did this…I don't deserve you.” John smiled and sighed.

“Don't talk like that.” John took his hand and lead him around to their chairs, but Paul didn't sit in his. As soon as John was seated in his chair, Paul sat himself on his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, allowing his head to fall onto his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Paul whispered as he reached over and grabbed one of the beers. 

John smiled and held up his beer. “To finishing work and finally setting up the firepit.”

Paul giggled and clinked their beers together in a toast. He was reminded why he ever fell in love with John in the first place. Not that he needed to be reminded, geez, Paul could probably list off 100 reasons why he loved John in a matter of seconds. 

He dozed off in Johns lap, listening to him hum some tune he didn't recognize. If Paul could stay here forever, he would choose to do so in a heartbeat.


	2. Dinner Date with The Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Paul go out to Dinner with Jim and Mary McCartney.

Ah yes, Dinner with the parents. Paul was excited. Ever since they moved, it was harder for him to see his parents more often so they agreed on going out to eat at least once a month. 

Now don't get him wrong, John loved the McCartney’s. He tagged along with Paul to holiday parties, frequently talked to Paul’s aunts and uncles and was (for the most part) up to date on whatever was going on in the family. But it was Paul’s father who was always out to get him. He constantly tried to point things out about John that weren't “suitable for a relationship” and always tried to catch John doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Obviously, it never worked for him, as John was a hardworking man who takes good care of Paul and treats him well. 

Mary, on the other hand, was an angel in John’s eyes. She once promised John that whatever happens with the two of them that she would be there to listen to both sides and would never discard John. She kept Jim in line and held him back from saying rude things to him. John saw her as the mother that he didn't have all his life. Mary regularly texted John and asked him about how things were going and when they were going to see each other again. John understood why Paul was such a mama’s boy.

John was standing in front of their full body mirror and turning slightly too look at his full body. Paul was wearing a sweater vest and dress pants and John felt as if he could stare at him for ages. He wasn’t the best at throwing together outfits (most of his wardrobe being selected by Paul) and he was insanely indecisive in what to wear. 

Paul was sitting on the bed, watching as John stared at himself in the mirror. “I like that one.” He said, moving his legs to sit indian style. “Makes your arse look nice.” He commented as if it was nothing. 

“Christ.” John laughed and grabbed his cigarette from the ashtray, taking another drag. “Okay. Tucked in or out?” John asked. 

“In. Definitely in.” 

John shoved on his jacket and shoved the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray. Paul stood next to him in the mirror. “So handsome. You better order something caffeinated to keep you up when we get home.” He said, sliding his hand over John’s arse and giving it a smack. 

“Why are you acting like this? Am I not giving you enough?” John asked, sliding his hand around Paul’s waist. 

“God, love, I’m just horny and you look really nice.” He said with a sigh. “Alright, let's go, you’re driving.” A laugh escaped his lips as he tossed John the keys. He stood in awe for a second before smiling widely in shaking his head in disbelief. If only Paul’s parents could see how he acted when they weren't around. 

The drive was uneventful, except for when they passed some cute dogs that Paul was very happy about. As they pulled up, they could see Jim and Mary sitting inside through the window. They walked in together with smiles plastered on their faces. 

Paul greeted his parents with tight hugs and the soft smiles of reunion. Mary cupped one hand onto John’s face, telling him how nice he looked before enveloping him in a soft hug. Jim gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and sat back down in his seat. 

“So, how are you two?” Mary asked sweetly. 

Paul picked up a menu and set it in between him and John. “We’re good, how about you guys?” John smiled at the both of them. 

“Oh, the drive here was horrendous. It was really foggy out by us.” Mary clarified. 

The conversation was light, they really only talked about simple things like the weather, things going on in the world (without getting too deep because of John and Jim’s political standpoints), and work. Just like Paul had requested, John ordered a coke. In thanks, Paul rubbed his toe up John's leg before he had to lightly hit his elbow. 

“So, John, you’re still working as a guitar teacher then?” Jim wondered, his face stern. 

“Um, yeah. It's a lot of fun.” John smiled as if Jim wasn't about to start a conversation that him and John have had over a thousand times. 

Jim swallowed a piece of chicken. “But you don't make as much as Paul here, do you? I mean, it's only guitar whereas teaching english is pretty important.” 

Paul was quick to defend him. “Actually, John and I make the same salary.” 

Mary stayed quiet, probably too afraid to jump in. “How is that? Teaching some kids to strum strings can't be as much hard work as teaching grammar and how to write.” Jim asked with his signature know-it-all voice. 

“I do still have to grade stuff. The students send in videos of them performing songs and it takes good hearing to know if they got it right.” John said, his eyes hyper fixated on Jim. 

“And, It's not all about teaching how to play, it's also about music theory, history on guitars, different notes, etc.” Paul added. 

“Yes, thank you, love.” John sighed and took a bite of his food. 

Jim shrugged and stayed quiet. He didn't understand why Jim would keep bringing up this subject when it always ended the same. John shrugged it off and sighed. 

“Hows Martha?” Mary asked, needing to get off this topic. Paul instantly perked up at that question. As expected, this one question turned into a whole discussion about dogs and whether or not Paul’s parents would like to come babysit Martha sometime. 

When the night was almost over, Mary suggested going across the street for ice cream. Jim let out a quiet groan before Mary had to give him her best death-stare. The boys happily complied and they strolled across the street to the ice cream shop. John didn't get anything, already being too full from dinner. Paul just got one scoop of vanilla. They ate outside at one of the picnic tables the place provided.

Paul grabbed John’s wrist and pulled his arm over his shoulder. “Okay.” John mumbled with a smile. Paul cuddled into the nook of his arm and continued to eat his ice cream. Jim stared them down, John only responding with a sweet smile, knowing exactly what was going through that head of his. There was really only light chatter between Paul and Mary, John getting too sleepy to hold a conversation and Jim being too busy trying to catch John doing something not good.

Well, good news for Jim! John needed a cigarette. He took his arm from Paul and grabbed his pack from the pocket of his jeans. He let the cigarette hang loosely from his lip as Paul—in a matter of seconds—already had his lighter out and was lighting his cigarette. 

“Paul, you condone this kind of behavior?” Jim asked, gesturing towards John who was blowing out a puff of smoke. 

A smile crossed Paul’s lips as he took the cigarette from John’s mouth and took a drag before handing it back to him. “Yup.” 

“Don't you smoke, Jim?” John asked. 

Jim stammered for a second. “Well, back in my day, we didn't know what was in the damn things!” 

John and Paul looked at each other. “But dad, you still smoke. Don't you know what's in them?” 

His dad only groaned and stayed quiet. Agonizing John, Paul was taking forever to eat his ice cream. Either he was messing with John or maybe John shouldn't have ordered that coke. Nevertheless, Paul eventually finished his ice cream and they all got up to leave, Jim gave Paul a quick hug and then walked to the car. Mary said her delightful goodbyes and her ‘I love you’s to both of the boys and followed Jim to the car.

“Another successful dinner with the parents.” Paul said as he got into the passenger seat and stared at John. He watched as John stared off into nothing for a second. “John?” He asked. John turned his head and slowly moved in towards Paul’s cheek, pressing a slow kiss to it. 

“I just love you.” John sighed and pulled away, turning on the car. “Alright let's get home so I can pin you to the bed.” Paul smirked at that. 

“Oh great, I've had a half-boner for half of the night.” 

“You are a mess.” John handed his cigarette off to Paul, letting him excitedly take a drag from it. 

Paul smiled and blew the smoke out the window. “I'm kidding.” 

As expected, John and Paul screwed the night away. Paul regretted it as soon as he realized he was giving a test today, which meant he would be sitting for most of the day. John always left him like this. But no matter, John made sure to leave a post it note reading ‘sorry about your arse, i'll make dinner tonight’ on his desk before he got in. Paul couldn't help but smile when he discovered the note.


	3. Drunk on You (And maybe a little bit on this beer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul gets drunk. John takes him out to get food.

Paul felt a strong arm wrap itself around his waist. “Woah.” He let out. “You feel like John!” A laugh accompanied by a burp escaped his throat. He turned his hazy gaze to whoever was touching him, being greeted by his lucky guess. John.

A night of drinking out with George and Ringo had turned out just like any other. George and Ringo sneaking off somewhere for a bit, saying they went up to the bar for more drinks but then reappeared with red cheeks and hickeys, John not drinking and having to stick by Pauls side in order to protect him from all the other girls and guys in the bar who found him just as unbelievably stunning as John, and Paul getting truly plastered and being a complete airhead.

“You are John!” Paul booped his nose and went with his movements as John scooped him up bridal style.

John carried him across the almost empty bar to George and Ringo. “I'm takin’ him home. I’ll talk to you guys later. Wednesday, right?” John asked, trying to ignore the drunk mess in his arms as it kept on trying to kiss him.

George lifted his beer to John in acknowledgement and nodded him off. John did the same as the two of them headed off to the car. John had to help his boyfriend into the car, after several attempts, he finally got in after being promised they would stop for food.

“You’re so handsome.” Paul said, turning to look at John and resting his chin on the heel of his palm. John smiled and blindly offered his hand to Paul. Of course, he gladly took it and pressed butterfly kisses all over his palm. “It's so hot in here.” He whined like a baby, dropping John’s hand.

John turned to look at him, noticing that he was undoing the first few buttons of his shirt and leaning back in the chair, mouth slightly parted and he took slow breaths. John forced himself to tear his eyes away from the hot mess in his passenger seat and focus back to the road.

Soon enough, John pulled into the parking lot of the diner that was—for some odd reason—still open at these ungodly hours of the night. This was John's favorite place in town. Whenever Paul (he was very much a lightweight so this happened whenever they would drink) would get totally plastered, they came here. When John’s mother died, Paul drove him all the way out to this nowhere town and bought him food and held his hand from across the table as they talked about life and death at lengths. They often came here during hard times to get their mind off anything. For John, it was an escape. For Paul, it was a connection. A connection to John. He would always associate this place with that man he loved.

For right now though, Paul’s drunk mind was set on two things; find something greasy and meaty to eat and make John fall in love with him. Maybe Paul needed to be reminded that John was his boyfriend.

When Paul shook himself from his thoughts, he found that he was alone at the table. He searched for his light brown hair and smiled widely when he saw John ordering food. _Hopefully, he’ll get me some food too._ Paul thought.

Surely enough, John returned with a burger, fries and a coffee for Paul. Paul rejoiced over him as if he hadn't eaten in a month. John gave him a kiss on the forehead and sat across from him. John watched, quietly giggling, as Paul stuffed his face with the food. When he eventually got full and there was only a few bites left of his burger and those regular tiny fries at the bottom of the carton, he turned his attention to John.

“John.” Paul got his attention. “I like…” He started, a burp interrupting the start of his speech. “Really really really love you. Like a lot, y’know?” He said, as if it was a forbidden confession that he’d been keeping from John.

John felt his chest get warm and a tingle rise to his cheeks. “I love you too, darling.” He reached over the table and wiped away the stranded crumbs on Paul’s face.

Paul laughed and gave John the last piece of his burger. “This is because I love you.”

“Oh my god, thank you!” He said dramatically, putting a hand to his heart. John finished it up and watched as Paul tilted the fry carton back and let the little pieces fall into his mouth. “You ready to go home?” John asked. Paul giggled and nodded. They walked to the car, Paul being stable enough to walk on his own now. Paul kept trying to show John affection as he drove, making John both irritated and soft.

As soon as they got in, Martha excitedly greeted them and jumped at their feet. Paul scratched behind her ear and laughed heartily. John stood by their kitchen island, leaning back against it. He rubbed his eyes absentmindedly, opening them to see Paul staggering towards their speaker.

“What are you doing, love?” John asked.

“I wanna dance with you.” He said grumpily for some reason, connecting his phone to it. Soon enough, Jailhouse Rock played loudly from the speakers. Paul swayed on over to John, grabbing at his hands and moving them up and down to the beat. John happily went with his movements as they spun around their living room. “You the cutest jailbird I ever did see.” Paul said along with the lyrics as he stopped abruptly and tapped his finger against Johns nose. John smiled widely and bumped his forehead against Paul’s.

They danced for what felt like hours to John. Realistically, they probably danced through maybe 11 or 12 songs. By the time they stopped, it was 2:34 am. They collapsed onto the couch, Paul clinging himself to John. Martha laid herself right next to them on the ground.

“You are going to be so hungover tomorrow.” John whispered as Paul dozed on top of him. And he was right. Paul was hungover out of his mind. Much to his students enjoyment, he showed a video in class and handed out a group worksheet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u guys are liking this, im having fun coming up with more cute home-life things :) give me some feedback!!


	4. Not Going Anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its the anniversary of John’s mothers death. Paul helps him come back to earth.

A gentle whimper filled the room as Paul looked over to the clock on his dresser. It was 6 am. It was a day that brought a lot down on their household. The anniversary of John’s mother’s death. He blindly rolled over to hold his lover but slightly jumped when his arm just fell to the bed. “Shit…” He mumbled almost inaudibly.

Paul pulled himself from bed, quickly shoving on his notorious faded sweatshirt and grabbing one of John’s. He stepped into the kitchen, blinking rapidly in order to stop his eyes from being blurry. He quickly glanced outside and noticed it was raining. How ironic, He thought. Paul looked around the room and found John sitting on their windowsill, head resting against the window, tears spilling. His knees were pulled to his chest and he was wearing his glasses. As he got closer, Paul realized that he was shivering. 

“Hey…” Paul said quietly. John only turned down his head more, his head still resting against the window. He sat opposite of him on the windowsill and offered John his sweatshirt. Paul watched closely and John looked like he was scared of him. He was trying to curl himself inward, being afraid of being too vulnerable. “You okay?” He said. 

John sighed solemnly, taking the sweatshirt from Paul and holding it close. “Could be better.” His voice was raspy and clogged. 

Paul watched him for a few more seconds. “Um…” He briefly looked down. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

John jumped to grab his hands. “No, please…” His eyes were wide as he stared at Paul in the dark lighting. “Please don't go, just…” John choked out a cry and let his head fall into Paul’s lap. “Please…don’t leave me…” 

Paul felt his eyes get watery. “Oh, John…” He took his hands back and ran a hand over his hair. “Look at me, love.” Paul brought his head up with his hands, cradling his face. “I'm not going anywhere.” Paul ran a thumb across his cheekbone. “I promise.” 

John closed his eyes and let his forehead collide with Paul’s. They stayed like that for a while, enjoying each others company. Getting them to finally move, Martha strolled up to them. John rubbed her head, “Can we just stay in bed? Hide from the world for a day?” John asked, tearing his attention away from Martha and put it back on Paul. 

Paul cupped his face with one hand and used his other to brush back the loose hairs hanging over his forehead. “Of course, love…” After pressing a kiss to his forehead, Paul got up and started walking to the kitchen. “I’ll make you some tea, go put on something you wanna watch.” 

John walked into their bedroom, eyes stinging. Instead of putting on some silly show, John slipped into his briefs and a t-shirt with some band on it that he was into when he was 16. Surprisingly, it still fit him but that's probably only because he only wore shirts that were too big for him, trying to seem cool or something. John cringed at the memory of his 16 year old self. 

He crawled into bed and sat very still as he sunk into the mattress. A slight haziness came over him for the few minutes Paul was away in the kitchen. His eyelids were heavy and his cheeks stung from the tears. As he was busy forcing himself to sink further into the bed, Paul walked in with two cups of tea, setting one down on John’s dresser. He crawled in after John, immediately having him cling on to his body. 

The two got comfortable, getting into a familiar position of John laying on his back and Paul laying on top of him. “I love you.” John whispered, making Paul smile into his neck. 

“I love you.” Paul shifted against his body, pulling the blanket over his shoulder. He felt John’s body relax under his words. Reaching up, Paul entangled his limber fingers into John’s hair. He brushed through it with ease, letting his fingers simply pick out the tiny knots. 

John sighed. “I need a cigarette.” Paul used his arms to push himself up, his weight leaning onto John’s groin, making him whine for a second. He leaned over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from their dresser. John moved to rest his back against the pillows as Paul straddled him. They lit their cigarettes and took slow drags in silence. 

It wasn't until John let out a sniffle did Paul realize he had started crying again. Paul looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. He placed a gentle hand on Johns cheek. “Love, what's wrong?” His eyes were warm, welcoming. Inviting John into his heart. 

John shook his head and wiped his tear-filled eye with his free hand. “I just…” He looked down. “I don't wanna lose you.” 

Paul stubbed out his cigarette on the old ashtray on their dresser. “John…you know I won't be going anywhere for a long long time…” He tipped John’s face up to look at him, but he just shook his head and looked back down. 

“Yeah maybe that's the plan but…My mom said that too. So did Stu and Uncle George.” John sniffled, his voice raspy. “Everyone says they’re not going anywhere until they do.” 

Paul stayed quiet for a few sad seconds, trying to think of a response. “John, I can't promise I’ll be around forever but for now,” He tipped John’s face up again. “I won't ever leave you. Ever.” He placed a soft kiss against his cheek. “You wanna get some sleep?” 

John wiped his face and nodded. They cuddled up to one another, John holding Paul a little bit tighter than usual. Scared that if he let go or didn't hold onto him, he would taken away. “I don't deserve you.” 

Paul shushed him. “Don't say that.” 

John stayed quiet after that, listening to Paul’s soft breathing as he fell asleep. I won't ever leave you. Paul's words repeated themselves in his head. “You better not, McCartney.” He said quietly, not waiting for a response. “Because I'm going to marry you. And we are going to grow old together whether you like it or not.” A gentle snore escaped Paul. John made a noise of agreement as if Paul gave him a real answer. 

Paul was his soulmate. As much as he hated the idea of fate, he knew where he was meant to be. And it was right where he was. In Paul’s arms, in each others hearts and thoughts all the time. John thought about that silly idea of soulmates being linked together by red strings connected to the ring fingers. If John had a string, he knew it would tied mercilessly tight to Paul's finger. 

Two days later, John went out and bought an engagement ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this sucks im sorry im at a writing block


	5. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A box of polaroids causes Paul to look back on his and John's history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi oh my god sorry ive been gone ive been waiting to get to my laptop for a while because ao3 runs like shit on my phone, but im back and i think the next chapter is gonna be the last one for this lil thing :))

In an attempt to try and find a mouse that was scurrying around their attic, Paul ended finding a big box of polaroids from the 2000s when John and Paul had started dating. He didn't tell John about the box at first, and to be honest, he didn't really care about it that much to begin with. But as the days came and went, he kept feeling the thought of it nagging at him. 

It had to be around 1 or 2 am when Paul quietly slipped out of John’s hold. Wearing only a pair of sweatpants, he snuck into the attic and pulled a string to turn on the light. He sat himself in front of the box and grabbed a tiny stack of polaroids. He flipped one over. Memories instantly flooded back to him.

_ 2001; John having tea and being a distraction.  _

_ “Stop doing that.” Paul said through a laugh.  _

_ John slurped loudly on his tea again. “Doing what? I'm just drinking my tea.” Paul leaned over and slapped his arm. He set his cup down and exchanged it for a pencil. “You know, it's senior year, you don't have to be studying as frequently as you do.”  _

_ “I still have classes to pass.” He said, feeling as though he had said this to John a thousand times before. “Don't you have classes to study for as well?”  _

_ Letting out a groan, John set his tea next to Paul’s, not bothering with a coaster as Pauls desk had seen enough damage anyways. He laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling. Paul was studying at his desk, agonizing John and his ‘needs’ as he liked to call them. “Senior year is just a year to cool off before being sent to university.” He pointed out. _

_ “I guess. But you know how me da is. Wouldn't let me see you if my grade dropped below a B.” Paul reminded him, scratching his temple with the eraser of his pencil.  _

_ A laugh escaped John. “Mr. McCartney doesn't like me seeing you no matter how good your grades are.”  _

_ Paul giggled, closing his math textbook and taking out another notebook. “You’re still here though, aren’t you?”  _

_ “I am. So hangout with me.” John said, staring at the glow in the dark stars glued to Paul’s ceiling that had probably been there since he was a little boy. “That's why I'm here.” Rolling over onto his side, he stared at Paul while he worked.  _

_ “I'm almost done. Just take a quick nap.” Leaning over once again, instead of slapping Johns arm, he simply ruffled his hair, making John groan in annoyance.  _

_ So that's what he did, he took a quick nap that felt like hours. When he woke up, Paul was still at his desk. “You’re still not done yet? How long was I asleep for?” He rubbed his eyes and looked at Paul, who had a half a biscuit in his mouth.  _

_ “Like…10 minutes?” He estimated, voice muffled by the food in his mouth.  _

_ John gestured to the half biscuit. “And you got food? Paul, my love, you have betrayed me.” He put a hand over his heart as if he had been shot.  _

_ “Finish the rest of your tea, you git.” Paul shook his head with a laugh, going back to his paper.  _

_ An idea popped into John’s head. He grabbed his tea and again, started slurping it very loudly. He made a proper face and straightened his posture to look all posh. “Paul, take a picture.” He said in his most preppy accent.  _

_ Paul rolled his eyes, grabbing his polaroid camera. With a giggle or two, he snapped a picture of John, then waited for it to come out. Still laughing at his best mate, he took out the picture shook the picture back and forth to make it develop faster. Once it developed, he started laughing even harder. He took a sharpie from his pencil holder and wrote a caption.  _

_ “Hey! You better not be making fun of me!” John got up from the bed and grabbed at Pauls wrist. Being weak from laughter, Paul gave up his hands immediately. “John drinking tea and being a distraction.” John read out loud.  _

_ “I'm sorry.” Paul said, laughing even more.  _

_ John shook his head and grabbed a tack from his desk. He stood on top of Paul's bed and added the picture to his collection of many. When he was done, he stared at the other ones of him and Paul. His personal favorite was one of when they went to Paris. The polaroid showed John making a grossed out face while Paul kissed his cheek. He smiled.  _

Paul laughed at the many memories of John distracting him everytime he had work to do. He felt his eyes start to sting at the thought of them being stupid and in love. And they still were. He remembers back to when his dad had told him that these things don't work out. Oh, to shove that back into his dads face. But he would just say he didn't remember or that it didn't happen. 

He flipped another polaroid around and felt himself tear up with the sad memory. 

_ 2002; John goes off to uni :(  _

_ “I wish you didn't have to go.” Paul said solemnly, gripping onto the fluffy fabric of John’s hoodie.  _

_ John sighed, burying his nose deeper into Paul’s neck. “I would stay if I could.”  _

_ “I'm going to call you everyday until your phone blows up.” He let out a sad chuckle.  _

_ John pulled away a bit and looked up at the screen of the airport. “We have 5 minutes.” He pulled Paul back to him and planted a hand in his hair. “We’ll stay in touch.”  _

_ Paul wiped a tear from his eye. He glumly smirked and leaned in close to John’s ear so no one around them could hear him. “And when you get back, we’re going to have the best sex of your life.”  _

_ “Maybe I should go away more often if that's what I get when I come back.”  _

_ Paul clutched him tighter. “Don't you dare.”  _

_ Ding! Ding!  _

_ “God, please come visit soon.” Paul pleaded as the boarding bells rung.  _

_ John pulled away and placed a hand on his cheek, the other landing on his hip. “This may be the last time I ever see you.”  _

_ Paul hit his arm. “Shut up.”  _

_ “Sorry. Well this is it. Off to university.”  _

_ “Call me as soon as you land, okay?” Paul said, almost in a motherly tone.  _

_ “Will do.” John gave him one more deep kiss and picked up his suitcase.  _

_ “I love you.” Paul whispered, running his hand through his auburn locks one last time before he wouldn't be able to touch them for months.  _

_ “I love you too.” John, trying to savor every last touch, kissed his cheek and got in line to board.  _

_ Paul took out his camera and snapped a photo of John giving him the Rock-n-Roll hand sign right before getting on the plane. He smiled as the undeveloped photo slid out of his camera. Letting out a sigh, he continued on back to his car and drove home.  _

Wiping his face, Paul pulled himself back to reality. God those were some of the worst years of his life. He remembered back to when he would get drunk and stumble back on home and cry out to John through the polaroids he had as if he was really there. John did come to visit on holidays, spoiling Paul rotten with gifts. 

He wondered how that same spunky teenager who used to only listen to bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath was asleep right below him in their bed. In their home. They made it, and they were happy. Paul wiped another tear away. He took in a deep breath and flipped over the next polaroid. 

It was a picture of Paul and his ex boyfriend. Almost instantly, he scoffed at the sheer thought of him. 

John and Paul stopped talking for a few years after university because of the distance and lack of communication. Paul had one night stands for a while, trying to fill the John shaped hole in his heart, until he settled down with a boy named Adam. Everything seemed fine at first, until he caught him with another guy in  _ Paul’s  _ bed. But the worst part, Paul forgave him. They kept dating. The two stayed together for a year and three months. 

Adam endlessly manipulated Paul into thinking everything was his fault. Paul remembered when he was told “ _ I wouldn't have cheated if you were better.”  _ That stuck with Paul for a long time. Adam used to call him a brat, needy, clingy, an attention whore, an idiot, daft, and a fairy. When John reappeared in his life and they got back together, Adam would send Paul threats, saying he would break him and John up himself if he didn't come back. 

Paul ripped the polaroid in half and threw it onto the floor. “C’mon, give me a good one.” He said as he flipped the next one over. “Oh my god…” He smiled. 

1998;  _ Naptime in Paris  _

_ “I can't sleep.” Paul mumbled.  _

_ John turned away from his sketchbook. “It’s 4 pm.” He said, but it was stated as if it were a question.  _

_ Paul only sighed and shifted to move the blanket over his shoulder. “I know, I'm just tired from you dragging me all around the shopping center.”  _

_ “Oi, I thought we had a nice time!” John said with a smile.  _

_ “I didn't say we had a bad time, just saying that I'm tired from it.” He closed his eyes.  _

_ They sat in a comfortable silence before John patted his lap. “C’mon, you know the drill.”  _

_ Paul smiled widely and got up from the bed, grabbing his sweatshirt off the floor. John couldn't help but stare at how cute he looked with the sleeves hanging over his hands and the length of the sweatshirt covering his shorts and just showing his thighs. He crawled onto John’s lap with a huge smirk and immediately fell against him. They did this often. John would sit down and do his drawings (that Paul adored) and Paul would sit on his lap and just lay against him, slowly falling asleep.  _

_ “You’re so warm.” Paul murmured against his shoulder. “Like a big pillow.” John ran a hand up and down his back, the other wrapping around the small of his back. “So smooth and squishy.”  _

_ John made a noise and took in Paul’s scent of coziness and the slight smell of a perfume he tried on at the shops. “You smell nice.” He pointed out.  _

_ “You smell like,” He sniffed, “home.”  _

_ “Soft sod.” John laughed.  _

_ Paul smiled. “You are my home. I love you.”  _

_ “I love you too, Paul.” John slid a hand into his hair, knowing how much he loved having his hair fussed with. “Now, go on. Get your sleep.” John turned his head to kiss his cheek before returning back to his drawing. Paul was in a deep slumber within a few minutes. John always wondered how he was able to fall asleep so fast.  _

_ John hooked hands under his thighs and stood up. He carried Paul across the room and grabbed his polaroid camera. He sat down on the end of the bed, Paul somehow still sleeping soundly against him. John settled his hand on the back of his head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, a soft smile on his face and his eyes looking into the camera.  _

_ “What are you doing?” Paul sleepily mumbled, not bothering to move. _

_ “Admiring you.” John said, taking the photo from the camera and waving it back and forth to make it develop. _

_ Paul snuggled closer to him. “Why's that?”  _

_ “You’re very pretty when you sleep.” His voice was as sweet as honey as he picked Paul back up and moved him to lay in the bed.  _

_ “No.” A pair of pale, limber fingers grabbed at Johns bare shoulders as he set his boyfriend down. “Cold.” His bottom lip stuck out.  _

_ “Hold on, love.” In a matter of seconds, Paul relaxed back into sleep. John put Paul's camera back where it was and stared lovingly at the polaroid he took. He went over to the coat rack and carefully placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket. Moving back over to the bed where Paul lay waiting, he rolled over to stare up at John.  _

_ “Stop starin’ and get in.” John smiled at his words and crawled in.  _

  
  
  
  


“Paul?” 

Avoice pulled Paul from his memories and back into reality. He blinked hard, trying to shed the tears and see clearly. 

“John…” He said back with a smile. The image of his sleepy lover, dress in a shirt and boxers caused their whole history to come flooding back. He sniffled and wiped his eyes. 

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” John walked towards him and kneeled next to him. 

Paul chuckled. “I'm going through our old polaroids.” 

John’s eyes widened as he stared at the box. “Oh my god…” He mumbled as he picked up the ones Paul already looked at. Tears pricked at his eyes as he giggled at them. “Is this the first time you’ve seen this one?” He flipped around the one of them in Paris and showed it to Paul. Paul nodded his head. “Still a soft sod.” 

Paul laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Shut up.” 

“Holy shit. These are golden.” He laughed even more as he went through them, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. 

They sat for what had to be another half hour going through the photos. Paul would pick one out and the two of them would go back and forth remembering the story behind it. By the end, they were leaning onto each other, crying heavy tears and laughing. Paul would stare at their teenage selves in the photos and look back at John. It made him smile at how far they had come. 

“I’m glad.” John whispered. 

“What do you mean?” 

He dropped the tiny stack of polaroids and turned to wrap his arms around the one who stuck around. “I'm glad you ended up being the one.” Paul laughed out another cry and kissed him softly. 

“Me too.” 


End file.
